


Winter Solstice

by Fanfictionwriter117



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Angst, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Rumple lives alone, Spinner!Rumple, Winter Solstice
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-31
Updated: 2015-12-31
Packaged: 2018-05-10 15:42:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 722
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5591890
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fanfictionwriter117/pseuds/Fanfictionwriter117
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A lonely spinner receives a gift</p>
            </blockquote>





	Winter Solstice

The Winter solstice was a time for celebration, new beginnings and prosperity. To the people of the Frontlands it was the end of another year and the rebirth of a new one. A great communal feast was held every year on that night with dancing, drink and merriment. Livestock was slaughtered and roasted over an open fire, ale was shared and songs were sung.

Watching the fires burning from afar, still able to hear the echoes of laughter and merriment, Rumplestiltskin sighed almost longingly. It was the one day of the year he felt truly excluded. The festival was a tradition to all and yet he was not welcome. He was the village coward. Friendless, disgraced and shamed by the village. He was a outcast in his community, keeping to himself as no one would speak to him, always averting their gaze or regarding him with contempt. Coming away from the window, he looked around dejectedly. The little hovel he called his home never was much, but it had always been a home for him and his boy.

_Bae_

His throat tightened as he glanced at the empty bed next to his own, eyes rimming with unshed tears as he felt the rough notches cut into his walking stick symbolising the stages of his son’s growth. His boy had been gone almost a year now and he was still struggling with living alone. He woke up every morning expecting his son to be there and he wasn't. He tried not to think about it, especially at night. Instead, he busied himself by clearing away some dishes and giving the straw covered floor a quick sweep. Usually he spun at his wheel for a few hours before bed but he planned to retire earlier tonight. Tomorrow was market day and he needed to be up at dawn to get his wares prepared for the trip.

He was about to extinguish the candles before someone knocked on his door. He looked up in surprise, unsure if he had heard what he thought. Standing perfectly still, he stared at the door.

The door knocked again.

“Y-Yes?” He called, slowly limping towards the door. He didn't like the idea of someone knocking on his door at night. Hesitantly, he opened it to find no one; only a steaming pot. He looked around to see if anyone was there but the village was silent. Slowly bending down, he picked up the pot and hurriedly closed the door. He brought the pot over to his table, quickly setting it down. Opening it, his mouth instantly watered at the delicious aroma of beef stew. Who brought him this? He had no friends so he didn't have a clue as to why someone would bring him such a generous gift.

Spooning some of the stew into his wooden bowl, he took his first spoonful. The meat was rich and juicy which mixed perfectly with the blend of potatoes and vegetables, all fresh produce from what he could tell and that made him even more curious as to who would go out of their way to prepare such a delicious meal for him. At the very least he would have liked to offer his thanks, it wasn't every day he was brought happiness. Finishing his second bowl, he carefully stored the pot of remaining stew over the still burning hearth. Being as poor as he was, he knew how hard it was to procure enough food for the approaching winter months so he stored and preserved what he could as best he could. He extinguished the rest of his candles before getting ready for bed. Lying down, he winced, feeling the throbbing pain in his ankle. During the winter, the cold weather and night chill always left him stiff and sore, sometimes to the point where Bae had to help him out of bed in the morning. Massaging it gently, he pulled a sheepskin pelt over him. Settling, he peered up at his window. He didn't know who had given him his gift. What he did know was that despite being the village coward and an outcast, after the death of his son he simply didn't care anymore and yet someone still found kindness in their heart to offer him aid.

“Thank you,” he whispered, eventually falling into a dreamless sleep.

**Author's Note:**

> This was just a little plot bunny that I had going in my head at Christmas time


End file.
